


marcid

by unironicallynapping



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Divergent, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grinding, M/M, MSBY, Making Out, Massage, Self-Indulgent, Soft Sakusa Kiyoomi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i wrote this like a thousand years ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unironicallynapping/pseuds/unironicallynapping
Summary: It’s interesting how far they’ve come, Kiyoomi assesses. Touching used to make Kiyoomi feel like a wall had been breached, and the slightest amount of contact would make the alarm bells in his head ring until his ears bled. Now, it brings him comfort. Now, every touch (only) from Atsumu brings him back down to Earth when it felt like he had wandered in his head for too long. It brings warmth back to his fingertips and makes his entire body blush.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 133





	marcid

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this last year and i forgot to post it on ao3 lol. it's definitely on my tumblr, but i figured since sakuatsu is rapidly growing, that i'd contribute a little. this was written after i had taken a break from writing because i had to focus on ~school~ but now i have a bit more time than usual. it was just that high school > college transition that kinda wrecked me before lol. ANYWAY. i'm posting this before i continue working on act VI of my genshin series as a lil warm up. i totally rambled, but please enjoy!

“Omi-omi,” Atsumu drawls, flopping onto his bed donned in fresh clothes after a long-awaited shower. The game against the Adlers had been a long and incredibly grueling battle, but thankfully it wasn’t for naught. It was by the grace of God alone, and maybe Bokuto’s final blow, that they managed to pull themselves to victory. Regardless, Atsumu’s shoulders and neck throbbed from the countless sets he had performed today, and even the slightest movement had him groaning in discomfort to his roommate.

“What,” Kiyoomi responds flatly. 

“Shoulders hurt,” he pouts up to the ceiling, “I could use one of yer killer massages.” The blond cranes his neck to look back at his spiker, sending one of his signature give-me-what-I-want grins his way. He sticks his tongue out for good measure. Kiyoomi only narrows his eyes at him for interrupting his reading.

“I’m tired, too, Miya.” Kiyoomi turned his attention back to the book in his lap and desperately tried to find the words he dropped off before Atsumu started talking again. 

“Pleaseee O _ mi _ -kun,” Atsumu drags out the rancid nickname even longer this time in a futile attempt to make it sound cute. The raven does not budge, and Atsumu simply pouts with even more vigor. He huffs, being one of the only few people who explicitly know of Kiyoomi’s stubbornness. But alas, Atsumu was just as stubborn. It’s what made them such a great couple. Kinda.

Atsumu hauls himself up from the plush comforters the hotel so kindly provides and pads over- not forgetting to slide his feet into his slippers first- to Kiyoomi’s bed before starfishing in the same manner he had done before. Except this time, his head lands directly in Kiyoomi’s lap so the spiker has no choice but to look down at him. Bingo. He looks at him with hazy eyes laced with exhaustion. But then Kiyoomi looks down at him with the same expression, and Atsumu begins to reconsider bothering him in the first place. 

Much to Atsumu’s surprise, Kiyoomi closes his book quietly and places it on the bedside table. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to Atsumu’s forehead before nudging him to sit. “Up,” is all he says. 

Atsumu complies, shocked. “Wait, really?”

Kiyoomi does not look amused. “You’ve been pestering me for the past fifteen minutes, are you just now deciding to back down?”

“No, please, I feel like my arms are gonna fall off,” he rushes to explain, “I just, y’know. Ya look tired, didn’t expect ya to agree.”

Kiyoomi sighs. “I can spare five minutes. Now turn around before I change my mind.” Atsumu obeys. 

The raven brings his hands up to his shoulders, gliding up and squeezing lightly before resting at the junction between his neck and shoulder. It’s interesting how far they’ve come, Kiyoomi assesses. Touching used to be his trigger, the one of many things that would make his skin crawl and break out into hives, and suddenly make it feel like the walls were closing in at an alarming speed. Touching used to make Kiyoomi feel like a wall had been breached, and the slightest amount of contact would make the alarm bells in his head ring until his ears bled. 

Now, it brings him comfort. Now, every touch (only) from Atsumu brings him back down to Earth when it felt like he had wandered in his head for too long. It brings warmth back to his fingertips and makes his entire body blush. The slightest touch of skin to skin will make his heart pound a little faster in a way that Kiyoomi never thought would be good, and it never fails to remind him of the times they would spend together when not a single inch of skin wasn’t in contact with the other. During those times, Kiyoomi remembers vividly, it was hard to tell when one stopped and the other began. He didn't mind it one bit.

That being said, Kiyoomi digs his thumbs into the muscle and listens carefully to how his setter reacts. As he expected, Atsumu groans loudly and flinches slightly at the first squeeze, but relaxes almost instantly when he remembers this is supposed to feel good. Kiyoomi releases his grip, moves his hands down further, and squeezes again. Rinse and repeat. 

In a matter of seconds, Atsumu is putty in his hands. His head rolls back to rest on his boyfriend’s shoulder and shivers when Kiyoomi bows at the neck to nuzzle his face into his throat. He noses up behind the hook of Atsumu’s jaw and presses a feather-light kiss there. He squeezes again, then releases. His hands move on their own down to his deltoids and squeezes this time with the entirety of his palm instead of just his fingers.

Atsumu lets out a noise that could easily be mistaken for a moan. Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and ignores the sudden curl of heat in his abdomen, but it seems as though the blond had already picked up on the change in atmosphere. 

“Kiyoomi,” he calls out, voice raspy.

“Hm?” he responds lazily, still nosing at his neck. 

“I love you.”

Kiyoomi stills. 

Six months into their relationship and Atsumu had beaten him to it first. Just as he did with confessing, just as he did with taking them on a first date, and just as he did initiating skinship first. Kiyoomi tuts, tired of losing.

“Don’t just say things like that, idiot.” Kiyoomi does his best to scowl and appear angry, but the bright red that had spread across his face and down to his neck said otherwise. He releases Atsumu from his grip and lets them fall to his side, watching as the blond hauls himself up and turns around. Kiyoomi frowns. “Go back to your bed, heathen.”

Atsumu grins, teasing. “Aw, ya don’t love me back, Omi-omi? Yer words hurt, they really do. How could ya leave a man like this, huh? After I bare my heart to ya-”

“I love you, too.” Kiyoomi wills himself to say. This time, it’s Atsumu’s turn to freeze up. Serves him right for being such a smug bastard. 

“Wait, really?”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“Omi-kun!” Atsumu suddenly yells, making Kiyoomi scowl further, “Ya love me too!” 

His boyfriend definitely looks unimpressed. “Yes. Lower your voice.”

“This is a big deal!” he hollers.

“Did you really not expect me to feel the same way?” Kiyoomi raises one eyebrow, suddenly doubtful of himself. 

“Well,” Atsumu quickly looks abashed, “I just didn’t think ya would say it outright like that, y’know? Figured ya would say somethin’ more like ‘shut up, asshole’ and it would be up to me to translate that to an ‘I love ya, too, ‘Tsumu’.”

“I will, if that’s what you want.” he teases.

“No! I like it when ya say it outright. It suits ya.” Atsumu grins, falling forward a bit and feeling proud that Kiyoomi doesn’t lean back or flinch. 

“It suits me to say that I love you directly?” Kiyoomi deadpans. Atsumu blushes a bright red at the words again. 

“Yeah, it’s… nice ta hear.”

Silence falls over the duo and suddenly, Atsumu doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. He settles on shuffling with his fingers, picking at his nails and pushing at his cuticles. A nervous tick that Kiyoomi had picked up on during their time together. It’s Kiyoomi who breaks the silence first with a snort.

“Charming,” he starts, and covers Atsumu’s hands with his own. “But I’ll be sure to say it more often, then.”

“Omiii,” he whines, clearly red and embarrassed at the sudden display of affection, “ya can’t keep being this nice, yer gonna make me love you even more and that’s unfair.”

“I can stop.” There he goes again with his deadpanning. Atsumu opens his mouth most likely to complain or whine once again, but Kiyoomi decides that they’ve done enough talking. He leans in slightly and uses the hold he has on his boyfriend’s hands to pull him the rest of the way and have their lips meet in the middle. Kiyoomi smiles into the kiss. He loves him endlessly.

Atsumu lurches into the kiss so much so that Kiyoomi has to catch him as he falls backwards, getting straddled by six feet and eighty kilograms of pure enthusiasm. Kiyoomi breaks the kiss, laughing lightly. “Oh my god, calm down.”

“Can’t,” he rushes to kiss him again, “M’too excited now.”

He closes the distance between them once again with the same level of enthusiasm as Hinata and Bokuto talking about volleyball. Any lesser man would have crumpled with the amount of force he used, but this was Kiyoomi he was with. This was the only other man in the world other than Miya Osamu himself that could contain Atsumu. He kisses back with the same level of ferocity and grips firmly at the meat on Atsumu’s hip, tugging him forward and impossibly closer. The blond lets out a desperate kind of noise before rocking his hips forward, wringing out a noise from Kiyoomi not even he was sure he could make. The raven broke the kiss in favor of oxygen, but the blond was relentless. He dipped down and trailed his lips down his neck, across his Adam's apple, and to the patch of skin right underneath the hook of Kiyoomi’s jaw. Atsumu laps at his skin with his tongue before sucking a harsh hickey into it. Kiyoomi gasps and can only tip his head back to give Atsumu more space to work. They’re not sure how long they stay like that, or how long they’re rocking against each other until they’re both half-hard, but it’s only when Atsumu demands another kiss with too much tongue that Kiyoomi pulls away. He doesn’t grimace at the string of saliva that falls between them.

Atsumu falls back down to his neck and Kiyoomi groans, aroused, but so incredibly tired he just can’t do anything about it. 

“‘Tsumu,” he breathes. Atsumu, predictably, doesn’t listen. He keeps pressing kisses and lapping at his neck like his life depended on it. “ _ Baby,  _ god, give me a sec.” 

“Sorry,” the blond mutters, and presses a final kiss to his cheek before pressing his face in his neck and nuzzling. Atsumu’s arms come to wind around Kiyoomi’s neck, who eagerly reciprocates by placing a hand on the small of his back, a reassuring pressure to remind him he’s there. 

“I would,” Kiyoomi begins to explain, “trust me, I would, but I’m so fucking tired.”

“I know, me too.” Atsumu agrees, and slides off his boyfriend in favor of the space next to him. “You love me,” he suddenly remembers, smiling so wide he has to turn away lest he embarrass himself any further. “You love  _ me _ .”

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi sighs, but it’s nothing like his usual exasperated sigh. It’s more content, satisfied. “I do.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on twitter (@xiaoscribbles) and tumblr (@unironicallyasianwrites)!!


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